


Second Chance

by smithandbarrowman



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Gift Fic, One Shot, Ron Weasley Bashing, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-24 15:54:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22000510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smithandbarrowman/pseuds/smithandbarrowman
Summary: It’s not often you get a second chance. It’s less often that second chance is granted by the one person you always thought beneath you.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 76
Kudos: 539





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My writing wouldn't be possible without the help of the team behind me. They read, edit, cheerlead, and keep me on track.
> 
> Two of them stalked me.  
> Two of them were introduced amidst a bunch of lies.  
> One of them has become a new collaborator.
> 
> This is for them.
> 
> [coyg_81](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coyg_81/pseuds/coyg_81), [LaBelladoneX](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaBelladoneX/pseuds/LaBelladoneX), [CuppaTea90](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CuppaTea90/pseuds/CuppaTea90), [PotionChemist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PotionChemist/pseuds/PotionChemist), and TheOtterandTheDragon,  
> Thank you all for everything you do for me.  
> Thank you for being kind and generous.  
> Thank you for encouraging me.  
> Thank you for being my friends.

Draco squirmed, his body reacting to his brain’s want to wake up. He held his eyes shut, squeezing them tightly against the morning light. His head was pounding. Not from the consumption of too much alcohol, but from the headache brought about by the constant noise of the raucous celebrations the previous day. 

He’d been dreading it. 

His first year of being completely sober had been difficult enough without the madness of Christmas celebrations with his friends, but he’d managed to slowly turn his life around. Scotch, vodka, rum. Alcohol had been the numbing necessity that he thought he needed after the war, but it had also become the bane of his existence. The numbing effect had been too effective, everything had been better in a drunken haze. He felt nothing, cared for nothing, needed nothing. 

It was only an intervention performed by Blaise and Pansy that had caused him to rethink his life. After five years of watching him in a constant state of denial, they’d had enough. Pansy got into his face — as only Pansy could — and ranted at him. 

Worthless.   
Useless.  
Ungrateful.  
Selfish.  
Pathetic.  
Grow up.

It was all there. Plus, several more adjectives that only Pansy could get away with. 

Blaise had simply grinned slyly at him and then proceeded to gather every bottle of alcohol in his flat — even the ones Draco thought he had hidden — and exploded each bottle one at a time. 

And it had been the exact wake-up call he’d needed. The amount of broken glass had been horrific, and it had been the most apt metaphor if there ever was one; he had made a complete mess of his life, and he needed to clean it up. 

A stint in a muggle rehab facility, where no one knew him, had set him on the right path. A flippant response from him regarding ‘the war’ had been accepted without question. Apparently muggles were constantly at war, so his reason for drinking had needed no further explanation.

Once he’d gotten out, he’d thrown himself into building his Apothecary. Potions were his passion, and Blaise and Pansy were only too happy to help. His business had started small and had remained that way. He’d not wanted to follow the large companies; instead he’d wanted to remain true to his mentor and only make specialty potions. And in doing so, _SS Apothecary_ had become a resounding success. 

He’d been doing well, his life had been improving, and his need to numb himself had lessened to the point where he rarely thought about drinking. 

But this Christmas had been almost too much to bear. There had been too many people. Too many oddities — Pansy and Potter, to begin with. 

He had been shocked, to say the least, when his childhood friend told him that she had begun seeing Potter as more than _just a friend._ The pair had been secretly together for almost a year and had only made their relationship public in the last six months. Seeing them together was mind-boggling, but the expression on Pansy’s face was enough to let him know just how happy his friend was. 

It had been an adjustment, however, to learn to be tolerant of his childhood enemies. Potter, Granger and Weasley — _Ginny Weasley_ — had become fixtures in his life. Blaise and Pansy had befriended them, asking for forgiveness for their behaviour during their Hogwarts years. 

And of course, the trio had forgiven them. It was what they had been taught — forgiveness, respect, kindness, empathy. But there was one person they’d not been able to forgive. 

The Golden Trio had fallen out. Ron, apparently, was a prat — Draco had known that already — and had treated Granger appallingly. 

According to Pansy, Weasley had used Granger’s feelings to play with her. He had promised her that he would love her forever, but told her that before they settled down he needed to “explore what was out there.” Granger had taken it to mean Weasley wanted to travel the world and discover what he wanted to do in life. But Weasley’s idea of exploring was not what Granger had expected. 

Women had been what he’d wanted to explore. Women who wouldn’t have looked twice at him if not for Potter and Granger lifting his status by simply being friends with him. They were the brains — well, Granger was — and Weasley had clung to them because he knew they were his ticket to fame. 

And his plan had worked.

Women fell all over him. The prat had even turned up to Granger’s flat for Christmas a year and a half after the war with a pea-brained, bleached-blonde bint on his arm, and not caring in the slightest at his complete lack of consideration for Granger’s feelings. Potter had confronted him, as had Ginny, but Weasley just laughed them off, telling them that ‘Hermione would wait for him. She always did.’

Granger had kicked him out and told him to never come near her again. 

Draco had laughed when Pansy told him. He’d never thought Weasley in Granger’s league, not even close. What she had seen in him, Draco couldn’t understand. Dumb as two planks, always using incorrect spells and charms, always copying her work, and chasing every girl at school _except_ Granger. 

Draco huffed out a small laugh. Weasley was, put simply, an idiot. 

“Why are you awake?” a sleepy voice asked from beside him, a delicate arm sliding across his chest. “It’s too early.”

Draco smiled. Weasley’s idiocy had been his gain. 

“My head is pounding,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Did you need me to get you something?” 

Her concern for him was overwhelming. He didn’t deserve her. Weasley was an idiot, but he had treated her equally as appallingly when they were younger. But she’d been the one to help him the most. 

The war had changed her as well. The know-it-all swot he had hated was the one person who seemed to understand why he had turned to drink to get by. She had never ranted at him, never judged him, had never told him he deserved the life he had chosen. Instead, she had been calm and patient and had given him more respect than he truly deserved. 

And that was why he had fallen for her. 

“No.” He kissed her forehead. “You do enough for me. The potions are just in the bathroom, I can get up.” 

“Be quick,” she murmured. “The bed will get cold.”

He kissed her again and sat up. His head spun, and he cursed himself for not muffling his ears before everyone arrived for Christmas. His tolerance for noise was low, and his patience with a crowd of people even lower. Hermione had assured him that there would only be a small group for dinner — Harry and Pansy, Ginny and Theo, Blaise and Graham, Daphne and Longbottom — but Molly Weasley had gotten wind of the plans and the entire family showed up. As had Pansy’s parents, the Greengrasses, and Blaise’s mother. 

He should have been grateful, he supposed, to have family and friends around him. His own parents had wiped their hands of him when he turned to alcohol. It was an embarrassment to acknowledge his problem, and it certainly wouldn’t win them any favours in the old society. So they lived their lives as if he didn’t exist, as if he’d _never_ existed. Hermione had been furious when she’d learned they’d disowned him, but he’d told her not to bother with them. His new life far exceeded his old one, and he no longer needed, or wanted, them around.

Draco slowly stood and made his way to the bathroom. He hated to rely on potions to get him through the tougher days, but Hermione had told him it was nothing to be ashamed of. They’d been through a hell which no teenager should ever have to endure, and if a potion helped his headaches, well, it was far better than a shot of tequila.

He splashed cold water on his face while the potion soothed the pain inside his head. He rarely looked in the mirror, but today, he glanced quickly at himself. He was pale — that was expected — but the heaviness in his eyes was gone and his cheeks were no longer drawn and hollowed. The scruffy, homeless look that had come about with too much alcohol and not enough food was just a memory. He looked healthier than he had in years. 

And the reason for that was curled up, warm and cozy, in the bed he’d just crawled out of. 

He smiled at his reflection — another rarity — and returned to the bedroom, pausing in the doorway to look at her. The covers were pulled up to her chin, her unruly hair splayed out behind her like a chestnut wave on the white linen. Her eyes were closed, but he knew she wasn’t asleep. A tiny smile played on her lips; she knew he was watching her. 

“Stop staring at me and come back to bed.” Her eyes opened slowly and her smile widened. “But take those off first.”

Draco glanced down at his boxers, and the familiar curl of heat throbbed low in his belly. She lifted her head off the pillow and watched as he pushed the waistband over his hips and down his legs. He kicked his feet free and took a step towards the bed. 

“Wait!” She snaked her arm out from beneath the covers, and Draco felt a warm tingle all over his skin. 

His trip to the bathroom had been quick, but she hated the cold, and his skin had cooled considerably. 

“You warmed me?” He slipped in under the covers, his hand instantly seeking out her breast. “I can think of better ways to warm up.”

“I thought you had a headache?” 

“Someone here knows how to brew potions extremely well.” Draco rolled her to her back and hovered over her. “My headache is gone.”

“Must’ve been the one I brewed.” Hermione grinned cheekily at him and he tickled her ribs. 

“Sass like that will only get you punished.” 

He buried his hands in her hair and pressed his mouth to hers. She sighed deeply, her breath drifting over his face. For several minutes, he just kissed her, their lips moving together, tongues touching, desire building slow and heavy until their bodies hummed with need. Draco groaned and drew back, staring down at her. Her lips were swollen, her eyes filled with lust, her breathing fast. 

“Hermione,” he murmured, his voice laced with desire as he ran his hands over her warm skin, wanting to feel every dip and curve of her body under his fingers. His hands covered her breasts, full and lush, her nipples already taut and sensitive. 

“Draco…” her breath caught as he lowered his head, tonguing the rosy buds to stiff peaks. 

She whimpered as he drifted lower, grazing his teeth over the ticklish place under her left breast, smiling at her giggles as he teased. 

He pressed feather-light kisses across her stomach, his hands pushing gently against her thighs, opening her up to him. He dipped lower, his tongue never leaving her skin, swirling and circling, raining tiny kisses along the insides of her thighs. 

“You’re wet, baby.” Draco glanced up at her. “What were you doing while I was gone?”

“Nothing,” Hermione giggled. “Just thinking about you.”

“Hmm, just thinking about me,” He slipped his fingers into her wet heat, revelling in the tiny gasp that escaped her. “What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking… _Draco_ , _oh_ , do that again…” Her gasp turned into a wail as he curled his fingers inside her and dipped his head, closing his mouth over her and tasting her sweetness. 

Her body arched, her thighs tensing as he explored and teased with his tongue. She buried her hands in his hair, gripping tightly as he found a rhythm with both his tongue and fingers. Her moans and whimpers filled the room, his tongue sliding over her clit, his fingers stroking her deeply.

“Draco…” she clutched at his shoulders, frantically trying to pull him to her. “You… I need you.”

Her legs wrapped around his hips as he fell on top of her, his mouth instantly on hers. Draco groaned. Her wet skin caressed his aching cock as she writhed beneath him. 

“Draco, please.” Her voice was desperate. “This is what I was thinking about.”

Their eyes locked, and Draco shifted his hips, sinking deep into her tight warmth. He lowered his mouth to hers as he began to move. He took his time, rocking his hips in slow, even thrusts that built until they were both lost in the desire and heat that was _them._

Hermione clung to him, her hands gripping his arse, her fingernails dragging along his back. Her breathy moans and her gasped cries of his name urged him on. He clutched her shoulders, speeding up and taking her with powerful thrusts, their sweat-soaked skin sliding together. 

The headboard pounded against the wall repeatedly, the covers sliding off their bodies as their movements became frenzied. 

With a loud groan, Draco buried his face in her neck, her body tensing beneath him, her heat tightening around him. She cried out, a choked sound that held his name, her body bucking up against his. His own orgasm washed over him, every nerve alight as he released deep inside her, moaning out her name.

Sliding his arms around her back, Draco rolled them, holding her to his chest. She sighed, contented, as he pulled the lost covers over them. 

“You struggled yesterday.” She covered his heart with her palm. “There were too many people and I hated not being able to comfort you.”

“I was okay.” He pulled her fingers to his lips and kissed them gently. “You were close by, that was all I needed.”

“When will we tell everyone?” She shifted, moaning quietly as he slipped out of her, and then relaxed into his side. “I’m ready for them all to know.” 

He held her tighter and exhaled slowly. No one knew about them. They had wanted to take things slowly, had wanted to get to know each other properly before they announced they were together. But their secret relationship had been tough to hide. He wanted to be with her all the time, wanted her close, but he also didn’t want any pressure from their friends.

He’d made up a lame excuse to leave early the previous night, and she had seen him to the door. Her eyes were full of concern; she could always tell when things had become too much for him. He’d thanked her for a lovely day, but he’d not Apparated home 

Instead, he landed quietly in her bedroom, silencing the room. The darkness and the instant quiet had calmed him, and he’d stripped down to his boxers and crawled into her bed, the soft scent of her allowing him to drift off to sleep almost immediately. He’d not heard her come to bed, had not even felt her body curl against his, as she did every night. The day had drained him, but he knew it would be the last time they hid.

Draco placed a finger beneath her chin and gently tilted her face to look up at him. 

“New Year’s is a week away. We’ll be at Potter’s, and when the clock strikes midnight, I will kiss you.” He ran his thumb across her bottom lip. “And I will kiss you in a way that will leave no doubt as to how much I love you.”

Hermione’s breath caught and tears pricked at her eyes. “How much you… love me?”

“It’s true, Hermione Granger.” Draco pressed his lips to her forehead and closed his eyes. He breathed deeply, dragging her scent into his senses. He’d never expressed the sentiment before. Not to anyone. “You have given me more than I ever deserved, and I want the world to know that I am completely in love with you.”

She looked up at him, her eyes filling with tears. “I love you too.”

Everything, every moment in his life, had brought him to her. His past was behind him, the darkness finally conquered because of the woman curled in his arms. She had given him everything. 

And now she had said those three words he had so longed to hear. 

He pressed another gentle kiss to her forehead and leaned his cheek on top of her head. 

He waited until she relaxed and fell asleep before shutting his own eyes, knowing when he awoke she would be beside him. 

And would be beside him, always. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Such was the response to the little one-shot that precedes this, it turned into a two-shot. Thanks to everyone for reading the first part, I hope you enjoy this as much xx
> 
> I'll go on holidays now, see you all soon xx

NEW YEARS EVE

* * *

Hermione was nervous. Hermione was never nervous. She had learned over the years it was pointless to worry over the little things. Or even the big things. But right now, her stomach was full of butterflies performing some kind of circus act.

Draco was at his townhouse, much to his disappointment. His argument that no one would even know they were getting ready together had been valid — none of their friends knew about them — but she needed some space.

She had discovered she was a witch. Had gone to Hogwarts. Had exceeded even her own expectations when it came to her education.

She had fought in a war.

But this was bigger than all of it.

Yes, times had changed — Harry was with Pansy, for Circe's sake — but this…

Draco was not the person she had expected to have ended up in her life. He'd been rude and nasty and the bigoted views he once held were the worst kind. She honestly hated him. She'd not cared one iota for his safety. Nor did she care what even happened to him. As far as she was concerned, his choice to stand beside Voldemort was his own, and he deserved everything that came with it.

Then he refused to identify them at the Manor. He had hesitated to cross the courtyard at the final battle, even going so far as to glance at her apologetically as he passed by.

It was then she realised none of it was his choice. He had been raised appallingly by people who saw only their own gain. His mother had somewhat redeemed herself — not giving away the fact Harry was still alive in the Forbidden Forest — but again, it had been for her own selfish reasons, not because she saw fit to help the Order bring down Voldemort.

And his father. Well, he should have been rotting in Azkaban, as far as Hermione was concerned. Harry had been too forgiving, and his testimony in the Wizengamot had been the only thing that kept Lucius Malfoy out of jail.

She paused, staring at her reflection in the mirror.

How many people would think the same of her? Draco had been as bigoted as his parents, yet she had found it in her heart to forgive him. But he _had_ changed immensely, whereas his parents had only shown just enough remorse for society to begrudgingly allow them a second chance.

Draco had openly asked for forgiveness. He had admitted his wrongs and had worked hard to earn the respect he now had. And despite her first impressions of him, she had found someone who complemented her, someone who was caring and considerate, someone who didn't expect the earth from her while giving nothing in return.

She smiled at her reflection.

And he'd been that way since they'd become reacquainted.

***** HG/DM *****

"Hermione?" Harry sounded nervous. "There's another guest coming tonight, I hadn't realised Pansy had invited them."

"It's your dinner party, Harry, you can invite who you want."

"It's Malfoy."

Hermione kept her face passive, but her insides began churning. Draco Malfoy. The bane of her childhood.

She was aware that Harry had become… friendly with him because of Pansy, and he had commented several times just how much Draco had changed. But Hermione wasn't sure if she could even sit in the same room as him, let alone share a meal.

"Hermione?"

"It's fine, Harry." She smiled, shoving down the anger at the humiliation she'd suffered at Draco's hand. "I assure you I can be civil when required."

Harry wrapped an arm around her shoulders and kissed her cheek. "I think he'll be more uncomfortable than you. He's had some… issues, and I know he'll be embarrassed being around you."

Hermione shrugged. "Has he really changed _that_ much?"

"In the beginning, I only put up with him for Pansy's sake, but yeah, he's completely different, and I now consider him a good friend."

Hermione gaped at him and he laughed.

"I know, he didn't treat me much better than you. But, honestly, he's a different person now. He's dealt with some heavy shit and has finally gotten through it." Harry winced, as if he'd said too much, then quickly added, "And it's easier to forgive than to constantly hate him. The circumstances of our childhood were horrific; none of us should have had to deal with any of it, and it certainly wasn't fair. There's no point holding onto the hatred and anger."

"When did you become so philosophical?"

"When I met Pansy," Harry laughed. "She's very wise, despite her outward demeanour."

"Well, she and Blaise have proven themselves, so I'll take your word on Malfoy and do my best to be as polite as possible."

"Who are you being polite to?" Pansy asked as she entered the living room.

"Draco," Harry told her. "I'm just letting Hermione know he'll be here."

"Oh, I didn't think to tell him." She shrugged. "I'm sure it'll be fine."

Hermione's passive face shifted, as much as she fought to keep her expression neutral. She wasn't sure if _fine_ was the word she'd use. Their history was volatile to say the least, and she couldn't think of anything that they could even converse politely about. She was glad Blaise and Graham would also be there as a buffer.

Pansy placed a hand on her shoulder. "It'll be okay, Hermione. I doubt he'll even say much, if anything at all. He's not like he used to be; he hates any kind of attention. Actually, I'm surprised he's even coming. This is the first dinner invitation he's accepted."

Hermione wasn't sure if that was better or worse. If what her friends said was correct, Draco would be nervous enough. Her presence would probably make him more so.

"I'm not going to tear shreds off him. We're not children anymore, and I can handle one dinner with him," Hermione said. "Besides, if he's not likely to say anything, that'll make it easier."

The floo lit up and Blaise stepped out, followed seconds later by Graham. Hermione was instantly engulfed by Blaise, picking her up and twirling her around.

"How are you, darling?" He planted a loud kiss on her cheek. "I feel like I've not seen you in an age."

"We had lunch together last week," Hermione laughed. "Now, put me down."

"You took her to lunch without me?" Graham asked, hugging her as soon as Blaise righted her on her feet.

"I had lunch with you the week before," Hermione reminded him. "I'm the wife both of you will never have."

The floo flared again and Draco stepped out, his eyes immediately falling on Hermione. He smiled a smile that was both genuine and awkward.

"Draco, hey!" Pansy wrapped an arm around his neck and pulled him in for a hug. "We're so glad you came."

"I thought I'd better turn up for one of these things, you'd likely murder me if I didn't."

The tone of his voice shocked her. Hermione had expected the same snarky nastiness that she had known from her youth. What she _wasn't_ expecting was the quiet, gentle timbre that was barely more than a whisper.

His eyes dropped nervously to the floor, which gave her pause to consider what Harry had said. _Dealt with some heavy shit. Had issues._ It seemed whatever those issues were, they really _had_ changed her childhood tormentor, as Harry had described.

Hermione watched as both Blaise and Graham greeted him in that shoulder-bumping, head-nodding way men said hello. Harry shook his hand, and welcomed him. And then Draco's eyes fell on hers again.

"It's good to see you again, Hermione."

The sound of her first name coming from him was jarring. She'd only ever been Granger… or Mudblood.

"You too, Draco." Hermione tucked her shock away, managing what she hoped was a pleasant smile. "Congratulations on the Apothecary. Professor Snape would be proud."

His cheeks coloured pink and he dropped his gaze to the floor again, mumbling his thanks. Hermione was astounded. This was not the Draco Malfoy she remembered. It was as if another person had stepped out of the floo.

"Okay, embarrassing moment over." Pansy clapped her hands. "We're eating in the dining room."

"Who cooked?" Graham asked and Hermione choked back a laugh.

"Shut it, Montague!" Pansy poked her tongue out at him. "And… Harry did."

"Food'll be edible then," Blaise muttered, and Hermione was startled by Draco's chuckle.

She glanced over her shoulder and saw the genuine amusement in his face. His grey eyes shone, and the pink tinge in his cheeks took away the slightly gaunt appearance of his face.

He caught her looking at him and his smile dropped, his eyes darting back to the floor. She glanced at Blaise, who gave her a brief smile. She frowned; was Draco so embarrassed that he couldn't even look at her?

And their reactions to him, they all seemed overly protective of him, even Harry. What _issues_ did he have?

When dinner finally began, Hermione wondered about the lack of wine. Pansy was a terrible cook, but she was an expert in wines, and her ability to match food and wine was second to none. Hermione wasn't much of a drinker, but she had enjoyed many dinners with her two friends and was curious as to what the reasoning for tonight's absence was.

"It's my fault." Draco was sitting opposite her and was now looking at her with the same awkward expression he had when he first stepped out of the floo.

"Your fault?" Hermione frowned and glanced around the table. She wondered if he was trying to apologise for his past behaviour, but the others were watching him with expressions she couldn't quite read.

"There's no wine because of me." He took a nervous breath. "I spent five years after the war drinking myself into oblivion. If it hadn't been for this lot, I would probably be close to death by now."

"Draco…" Hermione's heart sank. They'd all had their struggles after the war, but they had each other to lean on. Draco, it seemed, had no one. "I… I didn't know."

"Very few people do." He glanced at the others. "Only these four and Theo. It's been a hard road back, and wine at dinner is just…"

Hermione's own embarrassment flared as his eyes dropped to the table. She hadn't known — of course she hadn't — but her curiosity as to the absence of wine bottles, and glasses, had clearly been obvious.

_If it hadn't been for this lot…_

His meaning couldn't have been clearer. He'd been abandoned, left to suffer on his own.

"I'm so sorry, Draco." Her instant sympathy for him erased all the remaining hatred she held for him.

"I don't deserve your apology." He didn't look at her. "You should hate me."

"Draco, mate…" Blaise squeezed his shoulder. "Don't let that dark side back in. Granger didn't hex you, so I think you're fine."

Draco finally looked up at her, and Hermione smiled at him.

"I thought I'd be angry at you, Draco," she admitted. "But Blaise is right; there's no point. And the only time I drink wine is when I'm here… it's the _one_ thing Pansy is good at."

"Hey!" Pansy cried, but there was no venom in her tone.

Draco actually chuckled and Hermione could feel the tension melt from the table.

"I am sorry, Hermione," Draco said softly. "Maybe one day you'll be able to forgive me."

Hermione reached across the table, offering her hand to him. He took it and she squeezed his fingers.

"The war is over and if I can be friends with this lot," she winked at him, "I can certainly be friends with you. Now tell me about your apothecary."

***** HG/DM *****

Hermione blinked, pulling herself from the memory of that first dinner. They hadn't fallen into bed that night, but a slow friendship did bloom. It had taken almost two months for Draco to pluck up the courage to ask her on an actual date, and that date had been a simple picnic in the back garden of his townhouse. They had talked until the air outside had become frosty and then moved indoors, drinking tea by the fire. And it was there that he had kissed her for the first time.

She sighed, the memory of that kiss removing her nervousness.

Tonight would be it. Everyone would know. Tonight she could finally admit her true feelings to the world.

She loved Draco Malfoy.

She smiled at her reflection once more.

And he loved her right back.

* * *

"Hermione?" Ginny's face appeared around the kitchen door. "Are you alright?"

"I'm far from _alright,_ Ginny. And you're well aware why." Hermione had spent the evening avoiding her and now she couldn't be arsed to even hide her anger from her friend. Although _friend_ was a term she was considering revoking.

"I've no idea what you mean." Ginny smiled sweetly at her, but Hermione was furious.

"Just stop it, _Ginevra_. You fucking walked through the door with him." Hermione balled her hand into a fist, her fingernails digging into her palm. "You call yourself my friend, but in what world would I be even remotely interested in Cormac?"

Hermione had been horrified when Ginny and Theo arrived with Cormac in tow. She knew instantly what Ginny was up to and had to use all of her will not to hex her friend into the weasel Draco still jokingly referred to her as.

Draco had also noticed and she saw the anger flare in him. She had smiled across the room, shaking her head, silently telling him it was fine, he had nothing to be concerned about.

But now, with Ginny playing innocent, Hermione's will was being tested.

"You don't have to be interested in him. Just have some fun with him. One night, what would it hurt?" Ginny grinned again. "I'm sure he'd be up for that. One night with the Golden Girl, who wouldn't be?"

Hermione shook her head and a tiny bolt of magic left her hand. Ginny jumped in surprise as a tiny static spark hit her hip.

"Hey! What was that for?"

"You know _exactly_ what that was for." Hermione pushed past her. "I've told you repeatedly, I don't want you interfering in my life. I don't need you to find me a man."

"Hermione, I'm just worried about you. Being alone isn't good for you."

Hermione barked out an incredulous laugh. "You don't give a shit about me being alone, Ginny. All you care about is gossiping about how good Theo is in bed. Talk about that with Pansy because I'm not interested."

"But she's with Harry… it's awkward."

"Oh, boo-hoo," Hermione snapped. "Stay out of this, Ginny."

"Hermione, I'm sorry, I was only—"

Hermione slammed the kitchen door, cutting off Ginny's words. She stormed down the hallway, running straight into Cormac. He grabbed her arm as she stumbled.

"Hermione?" He smiled sweetly at her and she rolled her eyes, yanking her arm from his grip.

"Stay away from me, McLaggen."

"Come on, Hermione, you're single. I'm single." He winked at her.

"I'm not fucking single!"

Hermione stomped past him into the living room, her eyes searching for Draco. He was standing in the corner with Blaise and Graham, both of whom weren't drinking in a show of support for him. She was glad of the fact his friends had his back, but her anger at her own friend outweighed any sensibilities. There were still two hours before midnight, but she couldn't have cared less.

She shoved her way through the crowd — _why hadn't Harry used an extension charm on the room? —_ and stopped in front of Draco.

"It's early, and…." She trailed off, locking her eyes on his. "I'm sorry."

She grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him to her, her mouth pressing against his. He gave a grunt of surprise, but in an instant, his arms were around her and he was kissing her back. Her hands slid into his hair as he tightened his arms around her waist; it wasn't what either of them had planned, but this was so much better.

Her hands held the back of his head tighter and she opened her mouth, letting his tongue slide across hers. She was so wrapped up in the intensity of kissing him in front of everyone for the first time, she didn't care how they looked, or even if this kiss was far too inappropriate for a public setting. This was real, this was how they kissed, and she wouldn't hide it any longer.

"Fucking hell."

Hermione laughed against Draco's lips as Blaise's quiet curse sounded beside them. She pulled back and Draco smiled down at her. She could see the spark of amusement in his eyes and she breathed a sigh of relief; he wasn't angry that she had stolen his thunder.

"Sorry," she whispered.

"For what?" He grinned.

" _You_ were going to kiss _me_."

"Oh, I think this was a thousand times better." He leaned forward, kissing her once more. "Mine would have been slow and sappy and sentimental. This was much more of a show."

Hermione smiled and then glanced towards Blaise, who was watching them with naked amusement.

"Ms Granger, you never cease to surprise me." Blaise chuckled. "I wondered why my boy had been so happy of late."

"Really?" Pansy stepped up beside them sounding indignant, but her face gave her away. She had an ear-to-ear grin and looked as though she wanted to hug them both.

"Really," Draco confirmed and pulled Hermione into his side, his arm wrapped firmly around her. "You kept Potter a secret, I thought I'd do the same."

"How long?" Harry asked, grinning as widely as Pansy.

"Three months," Hermione told them, and smirked when she spotted Ginny over Pansy's shoulder. Her eyes were wide and her jaw was almost on the floor. Theo, who was grinning like a mad man, wrapped his arm around her shoulders and whispered something in her ear. Ginny slapped his chest and scowled. Hermione got the distinct feeling Theo had called Ginny out on her meddling.

"Three months? Amateurs," Pansy snorted and then engulfed them both in a hug, whispering, "This is the most perfect thing ever."

"Thanks, Pansy," Draco whispered. "She truly is."

* * *

"I'm glad we left early," Hermione murmured and Draco hummed in agreement. His fingers were tracing patterns over the warm skin of her back. Her arm was stretched over him, her own fingers mimicking the patterns on his hip.

They were curled in bed, enjoying the quiet. Draco had thought he would be fine until midnight, but Hermione knew he was struggling. Blaise and Graham had flanked him all night until she had kissed him and then refused to leave his side. But as the large group began to get louder, and drunker, she could see the strain on his face.

They left amidst the sounds of wolf-whistles and knowing smirks, but in reality, it was a simple case of leaving before Draco's nerves exploded.

Pansy and Harry didn't protest when they left, both realising that it may have not been the best idea to have such a large gathering, but Draco had insisted they weren't to blame. _Maybe next year will be better,_ he told them, and they had Apparated home.

He _had_ kissed her at midnight, as promised, and it was definitely not a kiss suitable for public viewing. Her legs had been over his shoulders, his mouth kissing her in the most intimate of places, her loud cry of his name coinciding with the striking of the clock.

"It was a very good decision." Draco's voice was soft and sleepy.

"Our first New Year's." Hermione kissed his chest, and pressed her body closer to his. His fingers stopped moving over her back as he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

"First of many, I hope."

She tilted her head to look up at him. "You hope?"

"I don't like to get ahead of myself." Draco ran a finger across her cheekbone. "And I didn't want to assume."

Hermione laughed and propped herself up on her elbow. "Draco Malfoy, didn't you tell me, just a week ago, that you loved me?"

"I believe I did."

"Then why are you _hoping_ that this is the first of many New Year's together?"

"We've only been together a few months, Granger, and hope is something I haven't ever afforded myself."

She leaned down and kissed him. "Draco, I want you to know something. This thing we've got, you and me, I'm all in. So, _hoping_ this is the first of many is just rubbish, because this _is_ the first of a lifetime of celebrations."

Draco grinned stupidly at her as she kissed him once more.

"When we tell our children the story of my punching your face, I'm sure they'll find it highly amusing."

"Our children?"

"Yes, Draco Malfoy. One day there _will_ be children." She snuggled back into his side. "And that's one less thing you have to hope for."


End file.
